The Soliloquy of a Basilisk
by Starblaze and Solaris
Summary: To live, to serve. To kill. Is that all the basilisk wants from life? A monologue from the basilisk's point of view. Sort of bittersweet, really, and set not too long before the CoS.


**Sol: This is a little weird, I know, but hey, it's a snake speaking. Let it be. I was randomly fishing through the characters on the archive list, and found that almost no-one had written any for the basilisk, which is a pity, because a snake as big as that deserves some recognition, even if I would expect a creature like that to have one huge ego.**

**Star: What she means, is she wants one. But she wants a Fluffy too, and a dragon, and an acromantula, so ignore her. I think she would get along with Hagrid, although the height difference might be an issue, the midget.**

**Sol: Hey! I'm no shorter than you, missy. Readers, enjoy the wierd bitter-sweetness, and there is a little box at the bottom labelled 'review,' you know...**

**Star: Subtlety never was your strong point, Sol.**

**Rating: K**

**Genre: We're guessing here, but maybe Hurt/Comfort?**

**Disclaimer: JKR never wrote anything from the perspective of an animal. We are not JKR.**

**I Serve, But One Day, I Shall Not.**

To serve. To have to serve. To be bound to serve him by the blood that flows in my veins and the blood that flows through his. To wish, that desperate wish for freedom, to go, to terrorise the country if that is my whim, to feed and sleep as I wish, to kill that which would kill me. The fowl of the country would die, and the spiders, pathetic, weak creatures that they are, would flee. Oh, to be able to sleep for as long as I please! Then, finally, to waken, and feast upon the blood of my prey. Such bliss that would be. To see, for the first time in many centuries, the blue sky, the white clouds, and the heat of the sun on my scales! To feel the breath of the wind, hear the movements of the trees as small prey runs through them. To not have to live on vermin! Though the creatures here may be unusually large as the magic of my captor influences the world, I would give one of my poisonous fangs for a feast of a large, tender oxen or four.

Why? Why, why and why again? Why would a human, albeit one who speaks the proper tongue, want to risk his life, and that of his kin, by attempting to contain a beast of such magnificent proportions as I? My captor, the one whom I was forced to address as 'Master' in those hideous days of my youth, informed me that he had 'acquired' me for a 'noble task,' yet I see nothing noble in obeying the wishes of a man who believed he could contain all the power of a Basilisk! Nothing noble, in fact, nothing but cowardice, in attacking the _infants_ of a breed!

Genocide, as I believe it is known to the humans, is pointless. Over the generations, I may have the pleasure of consuming many related prey, but never, _never_, does a true, intelligent predator take a pregnant mother and her unborn! _Never_ does a mighty being such as myself take the young and fertile if it can be avoided! Even I, and my great sires of times long gone, averted our gaze from that part of the cycle of life.

There is method in my madness, however. As I leave the next generation, I ensure that the cycle continues, that the prey species continue, that I can continue to eat until the end of my days. Yet what good is that knowledge, that instinct, that truth, hidden down here? This hell-hole, this place of the rats, of the mice and the voles. Home of the rodents, of the vermin and the weak.

One day, I shall escape, and feel the rush of running water between my scales, and snatch frozen fish from the flow as I bathe. But still, here I am, waiting, always waiting. One day shall come again a son of the old 'Master,' and I shall be forced to obey him in his mad schemes. Yet when their line dies, the magical ties shall no longer bind me, and on that day I shall once again feast on the bodies of those I kill, and those I kill I shall kill for need, not on the whims of a _human!_ One day, I will cast off these shackles of blood and magic which bind even me, the masterful creature that I am! One day, I will return to my home, and hunt and sleep and find a partner. One day, that partner will lay, and a chicken's egg shall be placed beneath a toad. One day, I shall be free. For now, I sleep, waiting to serve, but one day, I shall not.

_**Finis**_


End file.
